'That place is a shithole Dune, you really wanna go there?'
Those words ran through Dunedin's mind over and over as she found herself driving from apartment to apartment on the financial district of San Paro. 'Of course I don't want to be here.' she thought as she rounded a corner and took a look at a tall but neglected looking building. 'I don't care if I got an entire floor for free, I'm not living there...' She cringed at the idea as she examined the windows and doors from the street.
A new state and a new chance, this is certainly what she had wanted. All Dunedin's life she had been the studious little daughter and the middle child within a loving and occasionally overbearing family. Something was missing though. All this education without experience left her feeling 'mechanical' and inexpressive. As Dune sat at a streetlight, checking her list of apartment addresses, she tried to remembered just what brought her out here. Some of her fondest classes had been in art, and the opportunity to work in a mentorship with a fashion designer was just the appeal she had been looking for. Something expressive so she could explore the excitement she felt was missing. She had all ready registered with the local college, and had spent the better half of the morning at a fashion boutique getting interviewed.
It's amazing just how fast such hopes come screeching to a halt. Before the light she was parked at could turn, a man in a sharp outfit butted in the passenger side window with his pistol, casually sliding into the seat and jamming the weapon unceremoniously against her head. Trembling with fear, Dunedin found herself deep in the 'excitement' of the city. In a collected manner the assailant demanded 'Move, two blocks and take a right.' Her head was going numb, was she really getting held up? 'Move' came the man's voice again, booming this time as he forced her head into the driver side window with a 'thud'.
She slammed on the gas pedal and sped down the road, damning every light and sign along the way. The only reason to move at the moment was to live, and the instinct to survive kicked in for the first time for her. This wasn't another lecture on crime or car theft in some sociology class, this was real life. Where the gun being pressed into your temple is worth more to the person holding it than your life ever will. She couldn't cry or barely even breathe as she followed the man's directions, parking under an overpass whose construction had ground to a halt. Leaping out of the car, the man ripped Dune out of her seat and dragged her onto the dirt.
Nabbing Dune's handbag from the car as she crawled to her knees, the man motioned for her to follow him. If she ran she was certain he would shoot her. She would also be left without any form of ID, cash, or her cellphone as it was all in the handbag. Her entire life now rested in the hands of a complete stranger, one that placed her wellbeing on the bottom of any to-do list.
'All right...' the man began to say as he thumbed through the handbag and pulled out her drivers license. With a smirk, he continued 'Dunedin, here's how it's going to go down. You're going to help me take care of a little business. First, we need to make a few deliveries.' He motions towards a couple boxes and some towels wrapped around some kind of equipment. 'Then, we're going to pick up my payday. Depending on how this goes, I might find it in my heart to give you some mercy.'
Once again with a gun pointed at her, Dunedin shuffled back and forth, loading the boxes and towel bundle in the back of her car. It was a quick chauffeur to the first drop off. Or a long one. Dune could no longer tell as she droned along passively. If she did as told an kept her mouth shut, then she could make it out alive, right? She was forced to exit the car and carry both the boxes to a backstreet door of an auto shop, where another man with a goatee and garish lime green mechanic suit stood waiting, flipping something rather shiny up in the air over and over.
'New protege?' the garish man asked the criminal as they approached, noting the similarity in dress between Dune's student attire and the man's sharp suit.
The criminal eyed Dune for a moment before announcing 'Nah, just a hostage. What you got for me?'
'Best reproduction yet. This'll keep you from getting bothered by those enforcers long enough to make a break for it.' the garish man said as he tossed the shiny object to the sharp one.
The sharp man pocketed the object as the garish one shoved the boxes though the nearby door and locked it. The sharp man smirked and waved his gun towards the car, Dune catching the meaning and returning with the two criminals to the vehicle.
This time Dune didn't have to drive, this time being shoved into the back seat with the garish man as guard, an uzi being the weapon of choice this time. The whole time she was forced to stare at the roof so she wouldn't know where they had gone. The only times she strayed by accident incurring the application of a gun handle to her head.
With a roll and a lurch signaling the stop of a disorienting and somewhat painful trip, Dune was hauled out for the last time to retrieve and carry the towel clad equipment, the garish man taking over the directions as the sharp man walked towards an alley. The three made their way into a building and down several floors to a parking garage, where two other criminals dressed as finely as the sharp man waited with a briefcase.
'Everything in working order?' the man with the briefcase asked as he took a few steps forward before depositing the case on the ground and backing off.
'Top shape like always' the sharp man began as he grabbed the bundle from Dunedin and walked towards the two 'This equipment will keep your crew at the top of their game those enforcers-'
His comment broke mid sentence as a 'thwip' and a 'thunk' was heard was heard. A new bullet hole marred a van near the two that were waiting. The sharp man dropped the equipment and quickly backpedaled towards the nearest vehicle for cover as the other three criminals turned in the direction the bullet came from. Dune could only stare dumbstruck as a muscle car decked out in yellow and black barreled down the garage runway and rammed it's way through the gate, two more enforcers running short distance behind as they took shots at the criminals. Was this her chance to run? Could she survive if she did?
At that point she was willing to learn the answer the hard way. Either she stayed, and likely killed as a casualty, or she ran and she at least had a chance someone wouldn't bother shooting at her...or at the least they might miss...Wrapping her arms around her head and ducking down, Dunedin made a sprint towards the direction she, her captor, and his accomplice had come in from. Attracting the attention of at least one enforcer who radioed in 'Criminal is attempting to flee towards the rear entrance.' as well as the garish man who she had to spring past, though was thankfully preoccupied with trying to stave off the enforcer's advancement, and the sharp man, who saw the perfect opportunity to make a break for it.
Dunedin ran barely a few steps ahead of the sharp man as he sprinted after her, her luck running out as she tries to shove out the back door into the alley. The sharp man driving his shoulder into her as he tackles her into the alley wall, the two tumble to the ground disoriented. Rolling onto her stomach and scrambling as quick as possible on all ours, Dune makes the best attempt she can to gain some distance between her and the sharp man. What she didn't count on was that he was all ready up and having lost his gun opted to send a shoe directly into her ribs.
Crumpling to the ground yet again, Dunedin spied the one last ray of hope she might have. Reaching her hand out and nabbing the gun off the ground, she quickly whips it up towards the sharp man and pulls the trigger. All she could see was a blinding muzzle flash, and feel the force of the gun forcing it's way back towards her. She lay on the ground dazed and bleeding out of a newly formed wound on her head from the gun kicking back into her.
Crawling to her feet weakly, Dunedin stared at the body of the sharply dressed man, his blood now mixing with the muddied water on the alley pavement. She found her concentration waning as she stumbled her way down the alley towards her car due to the pain and blood loss, slipping dreamily into the hope f placing this nightmare behind her.
The shouts of enforcers catching up ripped her back to reality. Snapping her head back towards the sharp man's body, she realized that the enforcers never had clearly seen him with the other criminals. Two enforcers now stood in the alley by the building's rear entrance, one with a gun trained on Dunedin as the other searched the sharp man's body, turning up both her handbag and the shiny object. Dunedin stood frozen in place as she strained to hear what the now animated enforcers were talking about. The one that had been searching the body now trying to get the attention of the one aiming the gun. The enforcer held out the shiny object for the other to see, a badge. The sharp man had been given an enforcer badge, and now Dunedin stood as the one who just killed an 'enforcer'.
She didn't wait to see their response. Head throbbing and the pain making every step feel like she was stepping on needles, she willed herself to run as hard as she could to survive. Innocence did not matter.
Those words ran through Dunedin's mind over and over as she found herself driving from apartment to apartment on the financial district of San Paro. 'Of course I don't want to be here.' she thought as she rounded a corner and took a look at a tall but neglected looking building. 'I don't care if I got an entire floor for free, I'm not living there...' She cringed at the idea as she examined the windows and doors from the street.
A new state and a new chance, this is certainly what she had wanted. All Dunedin's life she had been the studious little daughter and the middle child within a loving and occasionally overbearing family. Something was missing though. All this education without experience left her feeling 'mechanical' and inexpressive. As Dune sat at a streetlight, checking her list of apartment addresses, she tried to remembered just what brought her out here. Some of her fondest classes had been in art, and the opportunity to work in a mentorship with a fashion designer was just the appeal she had been looking for. Something expressive so she could explore the excitement she felt was missing. She had all ready registered with the local college, and had spent the better half of the morning at a fashion boutique getting interviewed.
It's amazing just how fast such hopes come screeching to a halt. Before the light she was parked at could turn, a man in a sharp outfit butted in the passenger side window with his pistol, casually sliding into the seat and jamming the weapon unceremoniously against her head. Trembling with fear, Dunedin found herself deep in the 'excitement' of the city. In a collected manner the assailant demanded 'Move, two blocks and take a right.' Her head was going numb, was she really getting held up? 'Move' came the man's voice again, booming this time as he forced her head into the driver side window with a 'thud'.
She slammed on the gas pedal and sped down the road, damning every light and sign along the way. The only reason to move at the moment was to live, and the instinct to survive kicked in for the first time for her. This wasn't another lecture on crime or car theft in some sociology class, this was real life. Where the gun being pressed into your temple is worth more to the person holding it than your life ever will. She couldn't cry or barely even breathe as she followed the man's directions, parking under an overpass whose construction had ground to a halt. Leaping out of the car, the man ripped Dune out of her seat and dragged her onto the dirt.
Nabbing Dune's handbag from the car as she crawled to her knees, the man motioned for her to follow him. If she ran she was certain he would shoot her. She would also be left without any form of ID, cash, or her cellphone as it was all in the handbag. Her entire life now rested in the hands of a complete stranger, one that placed her wellbeing on the bottom of any to-do list.
'All right...' the man began to say as he thumbed through the handbag and pulled out her drivers license. With a smirk, he continued 'Dunedin, here's how it's going to go down. You're going to help me take care of a little business. First, we need to make a few deliveries.' He motions towards a couple boxes and some towels wrapped around some kind of equipment. 'Then, we're going to pick up my payday. Depending on how this goes, I might find it in my heart to give you some mercy.'
Once again with a gun pointed at her, Dunedin shuffled back and forth, loading the boxes and towel bundle in the back of her car. It was a quick chauffeur to the first drop off. Or a long one. Dune could no longer tell as she droned along passively. If she did as told an kept her mouth shut, then she could make it out alive, right? She was forced to exit the car and carry both the boxes to a backstreet door of an auto shop, where another man with a goatee and garish lime green mechanic suit stood waiting, flipping something rather shiny up in the air over and over.
'New protege?' the garish man asked the criminal as they approached, noting the similarity in dress between Dune's student attire and the man's sharp suit.
The criminal eyed Dune for a moment before announcing 'Nah, just a hostage. What you got for me?'
'Best reproduction yet. This'll keep you from getting bothered by those enforcers long enough to make a break for it.' the garish man said as he tossed the shiny object to the sharp one.
The sharp man pocketed the object as the garish one shoved the boxes though the nearby door and locked it. The sharp man smirked and waved his gun towards the car, Dune catching the meaning and returning with the two criminals to the vehicle.
This time Dune didn't have to drive, this time being shoved into the back seat with the garish man as guard, an uzi being the weapon of choice this time. The whole time she was forced to stare at the roof so she wouldn't know where they had gone. The only times she strayed by accident incurring the application of a gun handle to her head.
With a roll and a lurch signaling the stop of a disorienting and somewhat painful trip, Dune was hauled out for the last time to retrieve and carry the towel clad equipment, the garish man taking over the directions as the sharp man walked towards an alley. The three made their way into a building and down several floors to a parking garage, where two other criminals dressed as finely as the sharp man waited with a briefcase.
'Everything in working order?' the man with the briefcase asked as he took a few steps forward before depositing the case on the ground and backing off.
'Top shape like always' the sharp man began as he grabbed the bundle from Dunedin and walked towards the two 'This equipment will keep your crew at the top of their game those enforcers-'
His comment broke mid sentence as a 'thwip' and a 'thunk' was heard was heard. A new bullet hole marred a van near the two that were waiting. The sharp man dropped the equipment and quickly backpedaled towards the nearest vehicle for cover as the other three criminals turned in the direction the bullet came from. Dune could only stare dumbstruck as a muscle car decked out in yellow and black barreled down the garage runway and rammed it's way through the gate, two more enforcers running short distance behind as they took shots at the criminals. Was this her chance to run? Could she survive if she did?
At that point she was willing to learn the answer the hard way. Either she stayed, and likely killed as a casualty, or she ran and she at least had a chance someone wouldn't bother shooting at her...or at the least they might miss...Wrapping her arms around her head and ducking down, Dunedin made a sprint towards the direction she, her captor, and his accomplice had come in from. Attracting the attention of at least one enforcer who radioed in 'Criminal is attempting to flee towards the rear entrance.' as well as the garish man who she had to spring past, though was thankfully preoccupied with trying to stave off the enforcer's advancement, and the sharp man, who saw the perfect opportunity to make a break for it.
Dunedin ran barely a few steps ahead of the sharp man as he sprinted after her, her luck running out as she tries to shove out the back door into the alley. The sharp man driving his shoulder into her as he tackles her into the alley wall, the two tumble to the ground disoriented. Rolling onto her stomach and scrambling as quick as possible on all ours, Dune makes the best attempt she can to gain some distance between her and the sharp man. What she didn't count on was that he was all ready up and having lost his gun opted to send a shoe directly into her ribs.
Crumpling to the ground yet again, Dunedin spied the one last ray of hope she might have. Reaching her hand out and nabbing the gun off the ground, she quickly whips it up towards the sharp man and pulls the trigger. All she could see was a blinding muzzle flash, and feel the force of the gun forcing it's way back towards her. She lay on the ground dazed and bleeding out of a newly formed wound on her head from the gun kicking back into her.
Crawling to her feet weakly, Dunedin stared at the body of the sharply dressed man, his blood now mixing with the muddied water on the alley pavement. She found her concentration waning as she stumbled her way down the alley towards her car due to the pain and blood loss, slipping dreamily into the hope f placing this nightmare behind her.
The shouts of enforcers catching up ripped her back to reality. Snapping her head back towards the sharp man's body, she realized that the enforcers never had clearly seen him with the other criminals. Two enforcers now stood in the alley by the building's rear entrance, one with a gun trained on Dunedin as the other searched the sharp man's body, turning up both her handbag and the shiny object. Dunedin stood frozen in place as she strained to hear what the now animated enforcers were talking about. The one that had been searching the body now trying to get the attention of the one aiming the gun. The enforcer held out the shiny object for the other to see, a badge. The sharp man had been given an enforcer badge, and now Dunedin stood as the one who just killed an 'enforcer'.
She didn't wait to see their response. Head throbbing and the pain making every step feel like she was stepping on needles, she willed herself to run as hard as she could to survive. Innocence did not matter.
